The Lone Wanderer Goes on Vacation
by catalystking
Summary: The Lone Wanderer has been known by many names, the Messiah of the Capital Wasteland, bane of the Enclave; out west he's even called the Courier. But life in the wastes is hard, and he wants a break. The undead creatures infesting the world is just a plus.
1. Prologue

**The Lone Wanderer Goes on Vacation**

**Prologue**

Max had had enough. He was sick of being shot, stabbed, captured, experimented on, lobotomized, blown up, blown down, and just plain blown. He was done being the Wasteland's lapdog, constantly being called to solve another problem caused by the incompetent, blustering morons he called his fellow humans. Max needed a break. He needed a vacation.

_I need a damn vacation_.

Max thought to himself as he walked away from the Enclave base he had just left. Seconds afterward, the base exploded in a spectacular fashion. He didn't look back at the base, and to the casual observer, he seemed to be walking away in slow motion. Of course, this being the wasteland, it could easily be dismissed as another impossibility of science, something that seemed to happen a lot around Max. As the dust settled, Max made his way north. The boundless problems of the wastes could wait; he was going to take a break.

_Maybe I could stop by Oasis, it would be nice to see some trees again_

Max was still trying to figure out where to go for his hard earned break. He hadn't exactly discovered many places that he planned on returning to anytime in the next thousand years.

_Shit, never mind. Last time I was there, I'm pretty sure I set half the trees on fire. I know I was drunk, but I could swear I heard one of them talk._

As Max continued his internal conflict, he was also sure to remain aware of his surroundings. He had seen way too many of his friends killed by carelessness to let it happen to him. Not like he was easy to kill anyway, though. Decked out in custom power armor that combined the automatic Stimpak injection system from the prototype medic power armor (minus the annoying voice) with the strength of the

T-51b and the fireproof exterior of Enclave Hellfire armor, and armed to the teeth with nearly every type of weapon known (and unknown) to man, Max was no pushover in a fight. Combine his equipment with his own combat experience and his ability to freeze time with VATS, and you have one hell of a warrior.

_The Commonwealth? Never been there myself. Actually, from what I hear, it would be worse than the Capital Wasteland, except with even more fucking geniuses. Plus, Li might be up there. Yeah, fuck that._

Max paused for a moment and removed his helmet. One thing he had wished he added to his armor was an automatic hydration system. He drank a bottle of Aqua Pura, replaced his helmet, and was about to carry on, before he was surrounded in a blue light. Before Max could react, his vision went black.

Max woke up on the middle of a street. He immediately got on his feet and took in his surroundings.

_The hell? Where the hell am I? This doesn't look like the wasteland. It's too… nice._

Suddenly, he heard a rasping sound from his left. He quickly turned to face the source of the noise. He saw a man…no, a ghoul? He wasn't quite sure at first. But after closer examination, he realized that the creature approaching him was neither. It was something… different. He looked past the creature and saw many more, all approaching him. Max grinned as he drew his shotgun.

_Now __**this**__ is a vacation._


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

**Rick**

Rick was not having a good day. He was still trying to pull the group together after they were forced off the farm by the walker horde. He still had no idea where Andrea was, and the others weren't taking Shane's death well, no matter what the circumstances were. He didn't regret his actions, but the loss of Shane and Andrea meant the loss of two capable fighters. Rick was going to have to teach the others how to shoot soon, he realized. True, he still had Daryl, Glenn, Herschel, and T-Dog, and Carl was getting better all the time, but Carol, Maggie, Amy and Laurie needed to pull their own weight. The issue, among others, such as finding a place to stay at least for the night, and what to do when winter comes, occupied most of his thoughts throughout the day. He hadn't been talking to the others much, trusting Daryl to handle it while he solved the conundrum.

Oh, and it was his birthday.

He hadn't told the others, so nobody knew except Laurie and Carl. They had quietly told him happy birthday earlier, but he didn't feel like anybody else needed to know. Plus, it wasn't like they had a cake….

Rick's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of gunshots. They weren't far away, maybe just half a mile away, but he couldn't see the shooter. They had made their way into a town, and the shots came from the road parallel to their own.

Rick motioned for Daryl to follow him, and Glenn to set up a perimeter to watch over the others.

He and Daryl, gun and crossbow in hand, slowly approached the source of the gunshots.

**Max**

Max took aim at the nearest creature. He was curious as to exactly what they were, but as the old saying goes, curiosity kills the cat, though Max had never seen a cat before. He was pretty sure they were extinct.

Without further hesitation, Max shot at the creature's head, sending pieces of it everywhere. To his satisfaction, the creature went down and stayed down. Max worked his way through the group of creatures quickly and methodically. Luckily, unlike some creatures in the Wasteland, these did not seem liable to get back up after having their heads blown off. After the last creature went down, Max stepped back and grinned as he admired his handiwork. It was then that he noticed two men standing to his right, weapons in hand.

**Rick**

As the sound of the gunshots got louder, Rick found himself getting more and more tense. His previous run-ins with other survivors had been less than successful, with the exception of Herschel and his family. He definitely did not want to take any chances with this man. As he and Daryl rounded the corner, what they saw was beyond their comprehension. Perhaps Rick had used the term "man" a bit too soon, because whatever he saw before him seemed more like a robot. It was taking on a large group of walkers by itself, seemingly with ease. It had a gun, but it wasn't any guy that Rick recognized. Judging from the sound and firing mechanism, it seemed to be a shotgun of sorts. As the last walker fell, Rick realized that he and Daryl were in the open. However, it was too late. Before he could move, the tin can in front of him turned toward them.

**Max**

The two men weren't moving, but Max wanted to get a closer look at them. He entered VATS, freezing time and zooming in on the two men. One man had a revolver in his hand. VATS notified him that it was a .44 magnum. The other had a… crossbow? If he wasn't in VATS, Max would have shaken his head. Who in their right mind uses a crossbow when they could have a gun? At any rate, VATS also informed him that neither man showed hostile intent… yet. Besides, if they fired on him he doubted a revolver and a crossbow could penetrate his armor. Max exited VATS and turned to face the men.

Both men flinched at the reaction. Obviously, they had hoped to remain unnoticed. They began to stare at one another, and nobody spoke for a while.

Finally, Max spoke up.

"Like what you see? Take a picture, it'll last longer."

A/N: I'm just going to give the perspective changes a chance here, but I'm not sure whether it really works or not. I won't use it next chapter at least, but I'd really like some insight on whether or not to keep it.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Rick was stunned. Had that tin can just spoken to him? It certainly had, though Rick couldn't make out what it said, or if it was even speaking English. Was it possible that he was from... somewhere else? Another country? Maybe even another planet?

_No,_ Rick reasoned_,_ _that doesn't seem physically possible. Besides, that didn't sound like English. Hell, maybe I just imagined him speaking at all-_

"Hello?" Rick's train of thought was interrupted by the tin can.

_Nope. That was real._

"Earth to… guy? This is Earth, right? God, I hope so. And I really hope you understand what I'm saying, because I've dealt with enough illiterate, non-English speaking morons this week."

The tin can (man?) continued to speak in clear, perfectly understandable English. Rick was still speechless, but then a voice spoke up from his right.

"What the hell are you?"

Rick had completely forgotten about the man by his side, but Daryl was now speaking to the talking piece of metal.

"Hallelujah! At least one of them talks! And speaks English! You have no idea what a relief that is. I hate drawing pictures. Anyway, I'm Max, and yes, I'm a human. Just felt like I should clarify that, since you look like you've never seen power armor before. What's your name, sweet cheeks?"

Daryl narrowed his eyes at the jab at his masculinity, but before he could return fire, Rick interrupted.

"My name is Rick. He's Daryl. What kind of armor is that?"

Inside his helmet, Max rolled his eyes. He would have facepalmed, if not for the inch of metal covering his face.

"This is power armor. Just like I said. Any more irrelevant questions?"

The other two men were silent, though whether out of satisfaction or shock Max was unsure.

"Great. My turn, then. Where the hell am I? It seems like Earth, yes, but something is off."

Max scratched his chin (well…. the metal protecting his chin).

"Oh, how did I miss that? You seem to have a major lack of destroyed buildings. How did an entire town survive the war? I mean, I know Vegas survived, but I doubt this place is important enough for a multi-billionaire hooked up to a computer to try and save."

Max looked back to the men, who wore quizzical looks on their faces.

"Long story. Anyway, yeah, where the hell am I?"

Rick and Daryl glanced at each other before Rick opened his mouth to respond. But before the words made it out of his mouth, the wind picked up and the air was filled with a loud whooshing sound. A blue box slowly faded into existence behind Max, who also turned to face the newcomer.

The front of the box opened, and a man with spiky hair popped his head out.

"Ah, London, it's great to be ba- wait… this isn't London."

The man looked around and took in his surroundings, seemingly ignoring the men in front of him.

"Hm… northern Georgia, United States, year 2012. That's odd. The old girl must be acting up again."

Another head, this one a female with blonde hair, popped out from behind the man.

"Again? This is the third time! You promised we'd get to meet the queen!"

The spiky haired man suddenly seemed to take notice of the walking tank plus two humans standing in front of him, and glanced back at his companion.

"Right then, we'll sort it out on the fly. Back in the TARDIS now. Allons-y!"

Just like that, the man and woman disappeared back into the blue box. The whooshing sound returned, and the box faded away.

Max, Rick and Daryl were all dumbstruck, each one trying to piece together what they had just witnessed. Finally, Max spoke up.

"Anyway, like I was saying… was that true? Georgia? As in the state? And 2012? That doesn't seem right."

Rick and Daryl shared another glance before Daryl responded.

"Well, it is right. Where are you from? Or, when?"

Max paused for a moment, debating in his head how best to explain that he was from the future. After some contemplation, he decided to give it to them straight.

"I'm originally from what's left of Washington, D.C., 2283."

Rick and Daryl raised their eyebrows. Clearly they weren't convinced.

"Really."

Rick replied flatly.

"Yes. Really."

If Max was not wearing a helmet, Rick would have realized that he was currently in a staring contest with the Lone Wanderer. Then again, Deathclaws were known to flee at the very sight of those eyes, so perhaps the helmet was for the best.

The two men continued to stare at each other, until they heard a voice come from behind Rick.

"Dad? What's going on?"

Rick quickly turned around to face Carl.

"I thought I told you to stay with the others." he scolded.

But rather than reply, Carl looked behind his father.

"What the-… what is that?" he asked, gazing at the hulking piece of metal with a look of wonder.

"I can explain, but right now, we need to get back to the group." Rick answered as he began to walk back. Suddenly, he stopped and turned back toward Max.

"I'm still not sure who you are, or if I can trust you-" he started before Max interrupted.

"Trust me? I'm the Messiah of the Wasteland, bud, why would you not trust me? Matter of fact, I don't like the way you're looking at me. I think I'm the one who shouldn't trust you! You and your revolver, with that guy with the crossbow…"

He paused as he motioned toward Daryl.

"…and your 'son'. Likely story. Hell, I bet you're all a bunch of sick cannibals. Or another one of those vampire clans. Or maybe you're with the Enclave, and this is all just a clever ruse to-"

"We have hot food, if you want it." Rick cut in.

"-why didn't you say so? Lead the way." Max quickly replied as he began to follow the boy and his father.

As Max passed by, Daryl couldn't help but feel like Rick was making a mistake. But, as he had said after the attack on the farm, it wasn't a democracy. His decision was final. Daryl sighed and walked after them, keeping a vigilant eye on Max.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The introductions had gone fairly well, as far as Max could tell. He managed to intimidate the other humans while still appearing to be fully human himself, though this was not the case. He still had all the synthetic body parts from his time in Big MT, and he had also acquired quite a few implants as well. However, he was still more man than machine, which (in his mind) validated his claim of being fully human. The others had mixed reactions toward him: the women (he hadn't bothered to learn any of their names beside Rick) and the old guy were fairly amiable, while some of the men, particularly the Asian looking one, barely concealed their hostility. However, this didn't bother Max. He remembered his first encounter with power armored troops, and he could understand their fear and mistrust.

_Besides, it doesn't even matter whether they trust me or not. They look like they wouldn't survive a day in the wasteland; whether they know it or not, these idiots need me. If anything, I'll just keep my armor on. They can try to shoot me then._

Max's helmet sat beside him as he ate from an open can of hot baked beans in the bed of a nearby truck, away from the group. Even though he felt like his isolation was not helping the others come to trust him, he needed to have time alone with his thoughts, to reflect on the day's events.

_Alright, so what do I know? I know that I blew up that Enclave base for sure. It was so nice to finally use that C4 for something. There just aren't enough standing buildings left to destroy in the wasteland. Anyway, right after that, I got caught in some sort of light… it was a lot like the beam that the aliens used to capture me. But I'm not in space, I'm in what appears to be an alternate universe. Can't cross that one off the list, since those aliens might actually have that kind of tech. So I met Rick and the idiot with the crossbow after I killed a bunch of those ghoul-looking things that are obviously actual zombies… what the hell did they call them again? Walkers? What a dumb name. Everything fuckin' walks. _

As Max continued his retrospection, a few members of the group eyed him carefully from inside the building they had set up in. Daryl especially mistrusted and disliked him, due to his insulting behavior and unknown origins.

_Can't say anything to Rick about it though ,_ Daryl told himself. _No point. He made his decision already._

While Daryl glared daggers at the back of Max's head, most of the others simply carried on, not nearly as concerned about the stranger as him. While it was true that nobody fully trusted him, removing his helmet to reassure them of his humanity had helped their view of him. Much to Rick's surprise, nobody, not even Carl seemed to be too intimidated by his hulking black armor or the array of weaponry that he carried. It seemed that months of dealing with the walkers had made it hard to really surprise or frighten them.

Max checked his Pip-Boy. No map. No radio. All he had to listen to was the holotapes he had recorded over the years, most of which were too depressing for easy listening. And so Max sat there in silent contemplation, checking his weapons occasionally just to have something to do. After a few hours, he finally realized that he was not going to be back home in time for his 200-year-old Salisbury steak dinner.

**A/N: Just a quick filler chapter. To be honest, I started this and forgot to finish it and wrote the next chapter before I realized it, which is why the ending is a bit lackluster. Don't worry, I'm uploading Chapter 4 today as well, and it's a good one.**


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Warning: Some fourth wall abuse coming up

The next day, the group (and Max) set out again. They still had no destination in particular. All they knew was that they needed to find shelter before winter came. Well, except Max, who had heaters and air conditioning built into his armor and could care less about the weather.

He and Rick had reached an agreement. Since Max seemed friendly enough and knew his way around a variety of weapons, Rick permitted him to travel with them and help protect the group. Max had disagreed with Rick's assessment of his skills, claiming to be "the best character in the history of Fallout." Rick had no idea what this meant, so he had just nodded and agreed.

While Max knew that he didn't need their help, he had been travelling alone for a long time. Holding conversations with oneself, while not uncommon in the wasteland, was still universally accepted as a sign of insanity. Besides, Max didn't know the area, and his Pip-Boy map refused to work. Therefore, it only made logical sense to immediately join up with the first group he ran into. Well, to him, at least.

_Besides, _he had reasoned, _if they turn out to be a buncha double crossing cannibal assholes, I'll just kill them and feed them to the zombies. Except the kid, because kids are invincible. Always kinda pissed me off that I could never kill that little bastard MacCready just because the developers didn't want us to get banned. _

After Max had finished his inner monologue (which went on for quite a while longer), he finally made a decision. Thus, former cop and invincible, all-powerful armored behemoth shook hands, and the deal was done.

The group was fairly quiet almost the entire day, both out of a need to listen for walkers, and a lack of anything to talk about after being around each other for months. Most of them, besides Rick, didn't want to make conversation with the newcomer, either out of fear, mistrust, or some combination of the two.

Max, however, seemed happy to talk Rick's ear off.

"Hey, Rick."

"…yes?"

"So, you've got zombies-"

"Walkers"

"Walkers, zombies, same thing. Anyway, you've got them and that's all you ever seem to talk about. What else you got?"

"What do you mean?"

"Anything else trying to kill you. You know, like super mutants, mirelurks, deathclaws… and mudcrabs. Horrible creatures."

"Uh… no?"

Max stopped dead in his tracks, forcing everyone behind him to stop as well.

"Wait a minute… so you guys are getting your asses kicked by a buncha zombies who can't even run?!"

Rick stopped and turned to face Max, obviously unhappy with his remark.

"It's harder than it looks to survive here. Not all of us have the benefit of an amazing suit of armor that makes us practically invincible."

"What, do you think I was born in this suit or something? I was thrown out into the wasteland when I was NINETEEN! The stuff I've killed could probably kill every "walker" on your damn planet in a week!" Max shouted, showing blatant disregard of the possibility that people or walkers may be nearby.

"Would **you** like to go kill all the walkers in the world then?" Came a voice from the group.

Max and Rick both looked to see who had said it, to see Carl standing defiantly in front of them. Rick and Max shared a glance, then Max sighed, remembering that the kid was invincible.

"Fine, whatever. Let's just go."

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief as they began to walk in silence again. Unfortunately for them, the peace didn't last long.

"Wait, you know what?" Max blurted out.

"If I'm going to fight your enemies, it's only fair that you at least see one of mine, right? Besides, you can't have a good crossover story without an enemy from the visiting universe that follows the protagonist to the new world. Besides, we haven't had a fight scene in, like, two chapters! Am I right?"

Max had stopped and turned to the group, who were about as confused as they should have been. Taking their silence and confusion as approval, Max looked up at the sky.

"Hey, author! They said yes." He said plainly, seemingly to nobody, before turning around with a satisfied smile.

"You might wanna put on your power armor for this one. Oh, wait, you don't have any. Well… I mean, you should be fine."

As Max said this, Rick heard rustling coming from the thick woodline to his left. Expecting to see a walker, he backed up and drew his knife for a quick, quiet kill. However, what emerged from the woods was no walker.

Before him stood a creature unlike anything he had seen. It stood on two legs, and had some deadly looking claws on the end of its arms. Its head jutted out in front of its body, and had two curved horns on top. Six yellow teeth poked out from the bottom of its mouth. Its breath stunk.

And it was massive.

Rick's eyes widened as he slowly back away, putting away his knife and pulling out his revolver.

"Uh, Max?"

"Hm?"

"Look."

Max looked where Rick was pointing.

"Shit."

"Max… can you kill it?" This time it was Lorie, who Max had barely spoken to, out of the feeling that she was pretty much hated by everyone, even people she had never met.

Max quickly turned back to the group, who were slowly retreating.

"Remember what I said about you being fine without armor? Yeah, you guys are fucked. That's a deathclaw. Run for your lives."

At that moment, several things happened at once. The deathclaw noticed Max, who was much closer to him than Rick, and had his back turned to him. At the same time, the group broke into a sprint down the road, and Rick took off in the opposite direction.

Max sighed and drew his Shishkebab as he turned around. As the deathclaw entered his line of sight, it took a swipe at his head. Max dropped down to one knee, swinging the Shishkebab in one fluid movement. The flaming blade found its mark, taking off the deathclaw's hand. As it recoiled in pain, Max followed it up by stabbing the deathclaw in the chest. The Shishkebab lived up to its name, as the deathclaw quickly caught on fire. Max dove away from the deathclaw, dropping the Shiskebab and drawing That Gun. At this point, the deathclaw was in bloodlust and charged, intending to put its only remaining claw into Max's armor-protected chest. Max quickly raised That Gun and fired one shot. The deathclaw dropped immediately. He calmly walked up to it and put one more round into its head, just to be safe.

Max holstered his gun and picked up the Shiskebab. He looked around and spotted the others, who were standing just 50 feet away. Most of them appeared to be in shock that Max had defeated such a large, dangerous looking foe so handily.

"Alright kids, come on. We've got ways to go." Max casually remarked as he attempted to wipe off his blood soaked armor with his hands. Sighing, he looked up.

"Uh… anyone got a towel?"

**A/N: I had a lot of fun making this chapter, hope you guys enjoy! By the way, I'm looking for someone that would be willing to make some cover art for this. What can I say, I'm a wannabe writer, not an artist. Anyway, thanks again for reading!**


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